


Hostages

by Peachuzoid



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachuzoid/pseuds/Peachuzoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rough hand grabbed her just under the chin causing her to flinch before she realized it was the Governor. He leaned in closer to her as she could feel his hot breath on the side of her neck. "Tell your people I'll be coming for them."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Really testing the waters here because I've never gone this route before. I'm not even sure where this idea came from. Aiming for four chapters in total and they'll be fairly short. Let me know what y'all think.
> 
> UPDATE: Thinking about continuing.

Beth kept quiet as she followed Daryl into the woods equipped with one of the machetes. She had been the one to volunteer and go with Daryl this time since Rick made it clear that they weren't allowed to leave the prison alone. Not with the threat of the Governor still looming out there somewhere.

She had been stuck in the prison for some time now since she tended to Judith more so than anyone else lately but Carol took over for her. Beth needed to get some fresh air and stretch her legs. After all, Daryl didn't mind her coming along. He had shown her how to be stealthy and how to effectively kill walkers. Even if he seemed like the last choice Beth would ever take, he was fairly patient with her when he taught her. Then of course Glenn, Carl, and Rick had helped her as well. She was still a work in progress though. Everyone needed to be able to defend themselves now in case something was to happen.

Not that Beth ever suspected anything would happen. At least not unexpectedly.

Daryl had been tracking a deer while Beth tried to pick up all of his actions and take a mental note of everything—the way he walked, the way he held himself, the way he was reading the trail that, quite frankly, Beth found difficult to follow. It made it easy to admire Daryl's skills once anyone had gone out hunting with him.

They probably only made it half a mile or so before the ground just seemed to cave from under Beth's feet. Her scream pierced the air as she fell into a rather large hole. Daryl came to an abrupt stop and turned around after hearing Beth's scream from behind him. He heard a small cough, realizing then that Beth had fallen into some kind of hole. A hole someone had purposely dug and apparently covered to some extent for Beth to have fallen in.

Daryl raised his crossbow and scanned the area briefly, nothing in view but trees and foliage. He cautiously approached where Beth had fallen, keeping a mindful eye of where he stepped and still making sure there wasn't anyone around. He felt a tad paranoid but there wasn't much else he could really do other than get Beth out of there and head back to the prison.

It obviously had to have been from the Governor. Who else would be running around out there that close to the prison creating traps?

"Ya alright?" Daryl leaned over the hole to see Beth still on her bottom as she slightly brushed herself off.

"Yeah." Beth worked her way back on her feet while rubbing her back.

Daryl glanced around one last time before he got down on his knees and set the crossbow down behind him out of the way. He dug his left hand into the ground to use as a grip as he lowered himself down and reached his right arm out for Beth. She gratefully grabbed his wrist and he in turn grabbed hers before she latched her other hand onto his arm. Beth dug her feet into the dirt and clay, trying to climb up the best she could with Daryl's assistance.

But when Beth glanced up at Daryl, he wasn't alone. He hadn't noticed her eyes locking onto the Governor directly behind him, growing wide with fear. She slipped out a gasp, "Daryl—"

Daryl noticed the look of terror on Beth's face then as he released her and she fell back down into the hole with an oomph. He made a grab for his knife on his belt, made to turn around to face whatever threat Beth had seen, but was met with the butt of an assault rifle to his temple. He blacked out as his body hit the ground, ultimately leaving Beth defenseless as well as himself.

"Daryl!" Beth screamed but she already knew it was no use. She had seen the Governor smash the gun into his head and knock him out cold. She was alone in the woods, trapped in a seven foot deep hole with a machete. She backed up as far as she could but the Governor paid no mind to her. Instead, the Governor had picked up Daryl's crossbow and examined it as though he were going to keep it for himself. Or test it out.

He nodded down to Daryl with the bow still in his hands as he took a step back. Martinez came into view at that point and slid his arms underneath Daryl's, picking him up just enough to drag him to wherever they had planned.

"Get her." The Governor instructed his other henchman, his voice calm and collected.

The towering black male walked over toward Beth and reached down to grab her. He succeeded but Beth wished he hadn't. She preferred being trapped in that hole compared to what these guys could do. And once she was back on solid ground, she gave it her all: she kicked, pushed, clawed, and bit. She broke free from his grasp long enough to pull the machete from its sheath but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully, making her drop the weapon and losing all hope with it.

Beth looked to the Governor and met his stare, his eyes glinting back at her maliciously as he cracked a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it's the Governor, Martinez, and Shumpert/Shupert/Bowman... Seriously, does anyone have a name for this guy that everyone can agree on? Apparently I'll have to re-watch season 3 to see when/if they actually say his name. Haha.
> 
> Anywoo... comments and kudos are nice. :)

Beth was now tied standing to a tree courtesy of Shumpert as she was forced to watch the three men work together to lower Daryl's unconscious body into a hole that looked much similar to a grave after having tied his ankles and wrists. The hole didn't appear to be nowhere near as deep as the one Beth had fallen into but it was certainly deep enough, fear swelling in her chest as she bit her lip and struggled against the ropes binding her. She had no way of escaping and she had no way of helping Daryl.

Daryl's crossbow and knife lay next to what Beth assumed to be a lid to a wooden crate big enough for a body; a makeshift coffin. Martinez and Shumpert climbed back up and handed down the lid before Martinez grabbed the hammer that was lying there as well, passing it down to the Governor.

Beth started thrashing once her mind finally pieced it all together. "Stop! Don't! Leave him alone!" These men were sick. The Governor was sick. They were burying Daryl alive.

No matter how much of a fuss Beth threw, neither of the men met her eyes. They wholeheartedly ignored her pleas as they watched their Governor hammer down the nails, Beth having to listen. There were only four in total, most likely one placed in each corner, but it was bad enough.

The Governor climbed back out of the hole now, brushing his pants off. He smiled over at Beth, "Wouldn't want your friend waking up too soon." He grabbed the shovel that was stuck in the ground and started piling the dirt back into the hole of which it originally came from.

Beth felt the tears stinging her eyes, the warmth traveling down her cheeks and dripping off her chin as her thrashing slowly came to a stop. All she could do was watch helplessly.

It was a few minutes later when she jumped at the sudden banging that erupted followed by muffled yelling.

The tears came faster as Beth cried harder. " _Please_! You can't do this! He'll die!"

The Governor only looked over at her. "That's the point. And the more he panics, the faster he'll go. He's got the right idea." And he went right back to finish shoveling.

Beth hadn't thought about it but he was right. And she hated that there was nothing she could do but cry, watch, and listen.

\- - -

Daryl beat his fists against the wooden plank above him in desperation. The darkness and claustrophobia was sinking in and had been from the moment he regained consciousness. The creaking and bowing of the wood from all angles didn't help to ease him either. He tried to calm himself down before he ended up hyperventilating.

He beat his fists against the wood above him one last time, the wood only splintering slightly, not nearly enough for Daryl to try and really pry his way out. But it was enough for some of the dirt to filter though and cover his face as he shook his head, spitting and sputtering to keep the dirt out of his mouth and nose. Only once he felt the dirt stop filling in at such a heavy rate did he dare open his eyes again—not that he could see a damn thing.

He didn't know where Beth was or if she was even still alive. He had no clue if there was even any chance that the others would find him on time. He really didn't know much of anything other than he was screwed. He wished he at least had an idea of whether or not anybody could come to the rescue on this one. If there was a possibility, then he needed to try and remain as still and calm as possible. He probably used up a good portion of oxygen in the vain struggles he had already produced. He'd keep trying if he knew no one was coming.

Daryl rested his hands against his chest and shut his eyes since he had no other option. He couldn't break the rope. His knuckles were throbbing and his hands were shaking something fierce. He could feel the warmth of his blood running and dripping down the backside of his hands.

How long would he last before someone could find him? Was it even possible to be found? He had no clue what his chances were but they weren't looking too great. He'd die from lack of oxygen and buildup of carbon dioxide.

Then he'd literally rise from the dead.

\- - -

The Governor stabbed the shovel back into the dirt before he sauntered over to Beth as she writhed against the tree. He stopped just short of her. "The way I see it, you have two options. You can scream and hope someone hears you that can help. But you risk bringing the biters down on you sooner. Or you can remain quiet and biters will eventually find you. Your call really." He shrugged, "Either way, the odds aren't looking too good for him." He nodded his head back towards the fresh dirt before providing Beth with a smug smirk.

Beth remained stationary trying to look anywhere but back at him. Her eyes landed on the spot Daryl had just been buried and she felt her stomach coil.

A rough hand grabbed her just under the chin causing her to flinch before she realized it was the Governor. He leaned in closer to her as she could feel his hot breath on the side of her neck. "You tell your people I'll be coming for them."

The Governor leaned back a bit, removing his hand from her chin and trailing the backside of his fingers down the length of her face, brushing her hair back with a grin. Beth tore her stare away from him and shuddered as more tears pricked at her eyes. Thankfully he backed off, retreating with Martinez and Shumpert. They left the shovel as well as Daryl's weapons right where they were and they kept walking until they disappeared out of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

Beth struggled to try and free herself but to no avail. Her heart was racing in her chest as she pondered over what the Governor had said to her. In other words, more or less, this was all just a warning. It was his way of trying to scare them. He certainly exceeded in Beth's book.

She stared over at the ground where they had buried Daryl and listened hard, trying to see if she could hear anything that would tell her Daryl was at least still alive but she received nothing. She figured that should be a good thing though. The more he struggled or did anything rash, the more oxygen he would use and the less time he would have. She wasn't sure how long he could make it in that box down there but she knew she had to do the one and only thing she could to help.

Beth inhaled a few deep breaths before she yelled for help, screaming at the top of her lungs in desperation that someone back at the prison could hear her. It was all they had left. She screamed and screamed until she couldn't anymore, her throat raw as she bit back tears and pulled against the ropes that still kept her bound to the tree.

She quickly glanced around the best she could to make sure the Governor and his men did in fact leave. She didn't see them anywhere in sight nor did she spot any walkers. She wanted to be able to sigh in relief but there was no relief. Not until she knew someone was on their way to get her and Daryl out of there alive and in one piece.

Beth found herself staring over at Daryl's weapons; his crossbow and knife. It was as if the Governor left them there beside where Daryl was buried for a reason; like it was truly Daryl's grave, like it was his place marker. She bit her lip and shut her eyes to block it all out but it never left her mind. She couldn't even begin to imagine waking up to find out she had been buried alive.

At least they had left the shovel behind.

The next thing Beth became aware of was a guttural growl. Her eyes shot back open as she saw the lone walker dragging its feet towards her, stumbling and moaning. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to morph into the tree, as if she could somehow camouflage into it and the walker would just keep walking.

But it locked its stare onto her and began at a faster pace, its arms reaching out as it closed in even further. Beth let out another scream as she raised her leg the best she could and kicked it back. She could no longer fight her tears as they blurred her vision. There was nothing more she could do. She was walker bait. She was going to be bit.

She was dead.

And so was Daryl.

There was a gunshot that rang out and blood splattered Beth's face before she even had time to register what happened. She heard the faint rustle of leaves and heavy footfalls of multiple people running. Her heart felt like it had leapt up into her throat as she turned her head to see Rick first, his Colt Python in hand. Following behind him was Glenn, Tyreese, and Maggie. Just seeing their faces was enough to reduce Beth into a sobbing mess, pulling and tugging at the ropes in a futile attempt.

"What happened?" Rick froze when he saw Daryl's weapons on the ground but no Daryl. His eyes followed the path from those weapons to the freshly dug dirt, to the shovel.

Maggie and Glenn were already at Beth's side cutting her free from the ropes as she choked out, "Daryl—they buried Daryl—" She could feel Glenn and her sister seize all movement as they stared at her.

"What?" Glenn heard her but he didn't understand. _Buried_?

Everyone's eyes fell on the site that Rick had already taken in. And in no time flat, everyone had started digging. Tyreese grabbed the shovel while everyone else worked together and used their hands. It was all they had as they dug away frantically.

"How long?" Maggie's voice quivered. She refused to tear her stare away from the dirt and kept her hands busy.

"I—I don't know. An hour tops." Beth wished there was some other way they could dig more efficiently. She felt like a dog trying to find a bone. She didn't care, she just wished she could make more progress. If an hour had truly passed, Daryl wouldn't be able to hang on much longer if he was still breathing.

"Daryl! Hang on, Daryl!" Rick yelled.

\- - -

Daryl was almost certain he could hear something—voices. But he couldn't be sure. He wasn't sure if it was real or if his mind was simply making it up. Whatever was happening, more and more dirt seemed to be finding a way into the box with him, filling in around and on top of him. It wasn't too much but it was enough to keep his panicked state still in motion.

He closed his eyes. The stagnant air was hot and sticky as he worked to inhale a breath. He raised his arms the best he could in front of his face with his wrists bound and slightly pushed the bowing wood upward in fear of it collapsing on his face. Just that little effort had his arms shaking, blood trailing down from his hands. He felt like he was fading but it was hard to tell with the surrounding darkness. A drop of what he presumed to be his blood dripped onto his face as he flinched, startled.

It was a voice. No, voices. Plural.

His mind wasn't tricking him. Someone was there. He could have sworn he heard Rick's voice telling him to hang on. They were there. They were getting him out.

Daryl figured he would have smiled to himself knowing they had found him if he hadn't felt so sick. His head was pounding and his arms shook worse and worse the longer he kept them above his head. He could feel his strength deteriorating without sufficient oxygen. Now he almost wished he would have tried to get out. He wasn't sure anyone would find him so he didn't want to risk it. Much like he didn't want to risk it now, fearing that the dirt that encased him inside the box was far too heavy if he tried to get out. The last thing he needed was to be squashed and suffocate.

He wanted to call out to Rick and whoever else was there but he couldn't. His throat and chest felt like they were both on fire, his lungs pleading and begging for air. He slightly choked trying to inhale, gasping, and ultimately choked again. He just had to hang in there a little longer. The constant creaking and bowing of the wood didn't help though, the confined space seeming to shrink smaller and smaller in his mind.

Daryl had just tried to settle himself down and relax, wait until they were able to get him out of there. But the creaking seemed to grow louder and he could feel the top bowing in more towards him with his arms still pushing it back up. His heart rate spiked as panic set in. Daryl gasped for breath as he tried to fight off hyperventilating.

The wood above him split in some kind of manner because he suddenly felt a pressure change and a rush of dirt. He turned his head away from the earth spilling in, spitting and trying to block the flow with his arms. He couldn't raise himself up and the dirt kept filling in. He was beyond hyperventilating now because he couldn't breathe even if he wanted to. Dirt rose up over his face as he choked, wheezed, and sputtered, weakly banging his fists against whatever wood he could find.

He was out of time.


	4. Chapter 4

"Wait—wait!" Rick stopped digging and put a hand up.

Everyone stopped and looked at him, waiting for him to explain. They already had a few walkers stumble across them but Maggie and Beth took care of it. There weren't any other walkers in sight.

"Why are we stopping? We have to get—" Glenn stopped short once he heard it. Daryl was banging on whatever he was buried in at a rather rapid pace. They could vaguely hear him gasping and choking, the banging slowing down until it stopped altogether.

"He's out of time—" Rick buried his arm into the dirt beneath him up until his face was pressed against it. They had to reach Daryl faster. They still had a good two or three feet of dirt separating him from fresh air.

Everyone fell silent and watched as they didn't know what to do. Rick wiggled his fingers through the dirt but he wasn't finding Daryl. He couldn't even find the box.

"No, no, no…" Rick pulled his arm back up and started to dig frantically. "I can't reach him!"

Tyreese got down on his knees beside Rick. "Let me. I might have a longer reach than you." He dug his arm down into the soil all the while Rick never stopped digging. Rick only stopped once Tyreese claimed he found something.

"I think I got him. I don't know if I'll be able to pull him up though," Tyreese announced.

"Try!" Maggie pleaded.

Once Tyreese was able to get a firm enough grip on Daryl, everyone worked together to help keep him steady and pull him back. Tyreese managed to dig both of his arms down as he grabbed a hold of Daryl by his wrists.

As soon as Daryl's hands made it to the surface, everyone released Tyreese and started grabbing for Daryl. They were able to get him up and out of the hole and onto solid ground. Rick cut the rope from Daryl's wrists while Glenn freed his ankles.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Daryl wasn't breathing. He had lost consciousness at some point while he was still buried, his body completely limp. His chest didn't rise and fall as it should—it didn't rise and fall at all. It was hard to tell what he really looked like underneath all of the dirt.

Maggie didn't say a word. She just pushed her way through everyone and started chest compressions. If somebody didn't do something they would lose him. He needed oxygen before his heart completely gave out on him next, having already slowed and beating a little irregular.

Maggie tilted Daryl's head up to clear his airway and held his nose before pressing her mouth to his and performing CPR. After two breaths, Maggie spit to the side with a look of disgust and resumed chest compressions. "I think he might have swallowed some dirt…"

By the fourth time around the group was beginning to lose hope. Daryl wasn't rousing. He wasn't breathing on his own. And quite frankly, the more time passed, the more they feared he'd come back as a walker. But they were still hanging on by a thread because they didn't want to give up on Daryl.

Maggie suddenly felt a grip on her shoulder before she realized it was Daryl. She let out a gasp just as Glenn grabbed her and pulled her back, both of them falling backward as she crashed into him. It had happened so fast that no one knew what to do, taking a step back and preparing for the worst.

But Daryl hadn't turned. He was still alive.

Daryl fell into a coughing fit, choking on dirt that had lodged itself into his throat. He made a desperate attempt to roll over and onto his stomach as he tried to regain control over his body and breathe. His brain couldn't even register that he was alive quite yet. He just felt like complete and utter shit; his head pounding and his chest tight, the irrevocable urge to vomit overcoming him. After gagging, he somehow fought it off.

"Breathe, Daryl. Just breathe." Rick had gotten onto his knees next to the man trying to soothe him. "You're okay now."

Once the coughing subsided, Daryl collapsed back onto the ground with his eyes shut, breathing heavily. No one said much of anything else after Rick. There were no words to say. They had just about lost Daryl in one of the cruelest ways possible.

"The Governor?" Glenn turned to Beth for an explanation as the girl nodded, tears in her eyes.

"He said for me to tell you guys that he's coming. That this was just… It's just a warning." Beth stuttered. Maggie wrapped her into a hug and rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

It was only obvious that with this being a so-called warning, the Governor was plotting much worse. And the group had a feeling he wouldn't have to wait for them to be separated to attack. Catching Daryl and Beth while they were out hunting was just too easy. And now they definitely couldn't risk it again.

Daryl shakily forced his way back onto his feet as Rick made to support him. Daryl slightly shrugged him off though and Rick took that as his cue that Daryl was fine to stand on his own.

"You think you'll be okay to make it back?" Tyreese questioned him in the most sincere way possible, not aiming to degrade him on his ability.

Daryl only nodded as he rubbed his throat. He didn't even want to bother with trying to talk after all of that.

Beth broke away from Maggie just long enough to turn to Daryl and hug him. "I'm so glad you're okay. And I'm sorry. I should have paid more attention."

Daryl wrapped one arm around her and patted her on the back as if to say "no worries".

Rick grabbed Daryl's crossbow and knife, forcing a smile at the two. The group couldn't be more relieved to know that they were all okay. Rick handed the weapons over to their rightful owner once Beth stepped back.

"Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about an... ahem, alternative route I could have taken with this one. (Beth getting bit and well, Daryl not making it. Or the Governor could have stuck around and "let your imagination run wild": he could have easily of taken everyone out then and there.) But decided against it. Because sometimes I like a remotely happy ending.
> 
> Thinking about adding to this. Definitely wouldn't be a very happy place though. So if you're interested, follow. If not, take this as your warning and run because this is as close as you're gonna get to a happy ending with this one. Thanks for sticking with me, guys! Makes me feel a little less crazy.


End file.
